


Mister Rutledge's Rat Servant

by InsomniacFlaaffy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Family, Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid AU, Multi, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2018-10-15 06:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10551538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsomniacFlaaffy/pseuds/InsomniacFlaaffy
Summary: Mako Rutledge has a drab life. He works in accounting, he lives on his own in a small apartment, he doesn't go out much, and doesn't have many friends. Enter Jamison, a hyperactive and loud magical rat god from another dimension. "I'm here to live with ya!" He tells Mako. "You know, to be yer servant for savin' my skin!" Before Mako know it, his life changes for the better and for the worse.





	1. Enter Jamison

**Author's Note:**

> Since the Dragon Maid series has ended, why not make a Overwatch AU for it. Right now the first chapter is here to see if anyone is interested in the idea and would read more. I have too many ideas in my head and nothing enough time. Someone please rescue me.

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

The digital alarm clock that sat on the bedside table blared like an annoying siren. A gigantic mass shifted underneath the piles of heavy blankets at the sound and a drawn out groan came out. The blankets were pushed away ever so slightly and a large hand reached out from under them. It felt around, almost knocking the clock off the table, and slapped all the buttons down in a swift motion. The beeping came to an abrupt end, cut short to its next loud beep.

The hand retracted back into the warmth and the hand’s owner lifted his head off the generously used pillow. Strands of his short silver hair stuck out in odd angles on his head. Hair locks blocked his sight; he probably looked like some swamp monster with that kind of bed head. He brought a hand to his forehead and ran his fingers through his hair. It felt greasy, he hadn’t had the chance to wash away the sins of last night’s partying.

Mako’s head throbbed as his red eyes focused on the blue numbers on the clock’s screen. _Six o-three AM_ , the clock read and Mako groaned again. He wanted to pull the blanket back over his head and go back to sleep. But he did like having food on the table. Calling in sick due to a terrible hangover was unacceptable. He was supposed to finish the bi-yearly report for his boss and promised to do overtime today. Mako began to regret falling for the temptation of an overtime paycheck. Fine, it was time to stop putting off getting ready before it was too late.

The many layers of blankets rolled off Mako’s body as he sat upright, falling over to the floor. His room was dark and chilly except for the tiny ray of yellow sunlight filtering through a crack in his curtains. Mako threw his legs over the side of the bed and rested his feet on the floor when the effects of the hangover hit him hard. His stomach churned, the muscles in his lower back ached, and the headache refused to go away. God how he regretted going out for drinks with Vega last night. The previous night was lost in a drunken haze but at least he managed to get home in one piece. He had no idea what he did or said during that time. Hopefully nothing too stupid.

Mako opted to keep the curtains close to let his headache pain stay to a minimum. He gathered his work clothes and lumbered towards the bathroom. His apartment bathroom was small but it did everything he needed it to. A hot shower eased some of the hangover symptoms. With a hand, Mako wiped away the steam covering the mirror. He looked at himself and his reflection stared back at him quietly. Man, he looked like utter shit. Silver five o-clock shadow dusted his jawline and the whites of his eyes were pink from both tiredness and the hangover. His damp hair sat sadly on his head and face. Mako couldn’t help but to chuckle at the sight. Same shit, brand new day.

He combed out his hair and pulled it up into its usual high ponytail. The stubble was shaved away with a clean razor and he slapped some aftershave on his face. Slowly, he was beginning to look like a normal human being again. Mako slipped his arms into a clean, white collar shirt, buttoned it closed, and wrapped a red necktie just below the collar. Freshly pressed beige dress pants and shined dress shoes brought together his work attire. Some would mistake him for a lawyer but always get disappointed when he told them he was only in accounting. Mako was supposed to be in a better job instead of crunching numbers but there he was, grabbing his leather bag filled with budget and salary reports.

To chase away the headache and morning sickness, he downed a cocktail of over-the-counter painkillers and stomach medicine in one gulp. He slammed the little plastic bottle down on the dining room table, snagged his jacket off the wall rack, and headed for the front door. Yawning and clearing the mental cobwebs from his head, Mako took the door handle in hand and opened the door inward. The man closed and locked the door behind him with his key. Mako flipped open his sunglasses and was about to place them over his eyes when he paused for a moment.

He stopped at the giant rat perched on the apartment’s metal railing in front of him.

The sight didn’t register into Mako’s head immediately. He just stared at the creature in silence.  

Its fur was short, blond, and very filthy. The ends of its fur were smoldering which caused smoke to rise off the rat’s scrawny body. Its orange eyes, large and glowing, blinked twice and its long snout twitched in Mako’ general direction. He thought it was some robot or a really strange prank played by the local kids that like to pick on him.

Until it moved its entire body.

The rat hopped off the railing, making the concrete floor to quake beneath Mako’s feet. It stood up to its full height, about a staggering twenty feet tall on its hind legs. It towered over the tiny Mako. The blood in his veins froze when the gigantic rat spoke to him like a normal human being.

It opened its mouth and a loud, booming voice came out. “Yer a hard man to find, Mister Rutledge, you know that?” It didn’t sound hostile at all to him. Sounded more like an old friend scolding his best buddy. “This city is completely bonkers, mate! Not a single landmark I could make out! Had to follow yer scent.” A glowing orange rune appeared under the rat’s fleshy feet. In an instant, the rat’s entire body was engulfed in a torrent of flames but they held no heat to them. The fire died down and a young man now bounced out before Mako.

“Da-na-na-na-naaaahhhh!” The rat turned human cheered as he threw his arms up into the air. He then placed his fists on his hips as he showed off his body by giving himself a look over. “I clean up good, don’t I?”

The man was tall but Mako was still about a foot taller than him. His face was sharp and angular. His body was thin, stick thin compared to Mako’s roundness. What he was wearing was certainly peculiar. He wore a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his biceps and an orange bow tie around under his collar. A while apron was tied around his slim waist, right above the band of his pants. His black dress pants were clean and ironed with a crease in both legs. Black shoes made out of high quality leather and shined to perfection dressed his feet. He looked like he hopped right out of the front cover of a male café magazine Mako liked to read from time to time.

The man’s ragged rat ears twitched where normal ears should have been and his rat tail swished from left to right. He smile brightly at the bigger man, showing off pearl white teeth. “Are ya gonna let me inside yer house or are we gonna stand here, lookin’ pretty?” He asked him with a tilt of his head.

Mako blinked several times. Rat ears, rat tail, magic…He chalked it up quickly to what he was seeing to a mere dream. He had strange dreams all the time, especially ones that started with him getting ready for work. He decided to let this dream run its course.

“Uh, sure. Why the hell not.” Mako replied. He turned his back to the man and fished out his keys from his pocket. “Let me just unlock the door.” It was the most adult response he could give to a dream.

The man slipped pass Mako, giving him another smile as he entered the residence. Mako closed the door behind him when he reentered his home.

“So you’re saying we met last night and I said you could stay here with me? Are you sure about that?” asked Mako.

The two men sat at the dining room table across from each other. The strange rat man, Jamison was his name, kept his posture straight and at attention while Mako had his back curved and his shoulders slouched.

“I’m positive!” Jamison said. “I never lie unless yer tryin’ to kill me or steal from me.”

Mako shook his head at himself. All of this was too real. Why wasn’t he waking up from this dream? His eyes watched Jamison’s tail move back and forth against the hardwood floor. His eyes returned to Jamison’s face and he shook his head once more. Unless this wasn’t a dream at all. It was difficult to wrap his head around all this.

“Remind me again where we met.” Mako said, trying to sound the least demanding as he possibly could.

Jamison’s arm shot into the air as he pointed upwards. “We met in that muddy ravine in the mountains!” he declared. “I wasn’t expectin’ to meet a human in a place like that, if you ask me. I thought I would die out there!”

“The muddy ravine in the mountains…” Mako parroted the man’s words. The memory was fuzzy but it was coming back to him in pieces. He remembered wandering through a dark forest, laughing at his own jokes with the company of his favorite bottle of whiskey. Then he took a rather hard tumble down a hill; no wonder his back hurt and ached so much. A giant rat in the mountains, trapped against the muddy earth with golden chains. Mako remembered the sight a little more clearly now. He recalled in his drunken stupor that he thought the rat guy was funny as hell, even sharing a drink with the creature.

“Wanna come stay over at my place, rat?” His own slurred speech echoed in Mako’s head. He groaned as he put his face in his hands and rubbed his temples in circular motions.

Jamison stared at him with intense eyes. “I’ll never forget what you did fer me, mate! I can start with being yer personal servant right this second. I’m itchin’ to get to work fer ya!”

“I’m not interested.” Mako said.

The smile of Jamison’s face fell away and transformed into a frown. “W-what?” his voice cracked when he spoke.

“I’m not interested in hiring a servant right now.” He explained flatly.

“But you wouldn’t have to pay me a single cent!” Jamison retorted, slapping his hands down on the table. “I’ll do the work free of charge, just fer you!”

“Look, that’s not what –” Mako began to say before he was interrupted.

“A god like me can be super useful to a round mortal such as yerself, Mister Rutledge!” Jamison blurted out. “I could take the whole city down in a fiery explosion or I could curse all the drongos you hate to very painful and drawn out deaths!”

Mako responsed quickly, “You’re not going to do any of that.” And leaned back in his chair. “But I have to ask, why a servant? Why not just be a god or whatever it is you are?”

“’Cause you said something about my body frame would look great in a servant’s outfit. Plus, you said it worked better for you.”

Goddammit drunk Mako. Curse him for his big mouth and for not keeping his little passion as secret. No he had a literal magical rat god seated just a few feet from him. What kind of mess he gotten himself into? “Sorry, Jamison,” Mako got up from his chair and reached for his bag from off the floor. “I can’t let you stay here. I already have enough on my plate as it is. I’m fine by myself.”

It was quiet. Jamison held his head down low and stood to his feet. “Yeah, I get it.” He mumbled. “Sorry fer droppin’ in and wastin’ yer time, I guess.”

Mako watched as Jamison shuffled pass him, keeping his head down. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl. His stomach twisted in knots when he saw the tears in the corners of the younger man’s eyes. This guilt he was feeling at the sight; why was all he could ask himself. Mako squeezed his fists tight and looked away. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t. The click of the door opening caused his heart to beat harder in his chest. He made a promise, didn’t he? Even if he made that said promise drunk, it was still a promise nonetheless. Man, how he hated himself sometimes.

“Hey Jamison,” Mako started to then the clock on the wall rang several times. Eight-fifty AM, it said. His fast beating heart soon fell to his stomach in realization. Fuck, he was going to be late for his shift. It would take him forty-five minutes to get to the office by train. No way he would make it in time to not get chewed out by his boss. He rushed to Jamison and slapped his massive hand on the man’s wide shoulder before he left out the door. “Jamison, can you get me to work as fast as you can?!” Mako asked, exasperated.

Jamison looked at the taller man. His orange eyes grew wide with excitement, sparkling in the morning sun, and the smile returned to his face. “Sure I can!”


	2. The World's Strongest Servant

“I’m not sure what I was expectinggggg!” Mako screamed over the winds whipping pass him at high speeds. His hands were buried in Jamison’s fur as he rode on the large rat’s back like a mighty steed. Jamison was fast, faster than anything normal in this world. Then again, nothing was normal about this guy.

Jamison galloped through traffic, kicking up asphalt, knocking over cars, and leaping over overpasses. He assured Mako that he used a perception spell on them so no one could see them. But the screams behind them said otherwise. Mako knew nothing about magic but the damage caused by Jamison was still visible to everyone. With a single bound, Jamison leapt upwards towards a skyscraper. The glass cracked under the weight of the creature as he quickly climbed to the top. The entirety of the skyscraper shook when he landed onto the roof, swaying side to side. The roof beneath his feet made from concrete caved in slightly as he pushed off from it, hopping to the next rooftop with extreme grace.

“I thought you would like a more scenic route instead of those boring roads!” Jamison shouted over the winds and he jumped to another roof. It sounded like thunder rolling in the sky each time he landed.

“Scenic is not how I describe this!” Mako yelled back. He nearly rip out Jamison’s fur and melted his body to the curve of his spine to hold on. The fear of falling off and becoming a splat mark on the sidewalk weighed heavy on Mako’s mind. If he was going to keep this guy, it meant more commutes to work on rat-back. Though having someone around the house wouldn’t be too bad. Clean here, make food there; as long as the guy didn’t annoy him or get in his way, Mako wouldn’t mind Jamison’s presence. Maybe having a servant could actually benefit him.

 

The elevator dinged and its automatic doors opened to the top floor of an office building. Mako stepped out, smoothing out the wrinkles that formed on his shirt and fixing his disheveled ponytail. He was sure his clothes reeked of sweat and dirty rat fur, but ignored it as he briskly walked pass the many cubicles that made up the floor. Mako slipped into his own cubicle and slumped in his computer chair. It squeaked under his weight. A sigh fell out of his mouth and he looked over at the personal clock that sat on his desk. It was in the shape of a cute little pig; a birthday gift from Vega. The novelty clock read nine o-clock then, in just a few seconds, ticked over to nine o-one. He couldn’t help but to laugh at himself. He made it just in the nick of time. No scolding for this man. He already dealt with enough shit to last him for the rest of the day.

“Rough morning, Mako?”

Mako looked up. A plump black woman had her arms folded on the top of the cubicle wall, most likely with her knees resting on her desk to see over it. There was a smirk on her round face while she looked down at him. Her name was Vega Nellis, his neighboring co-worker and his only friend. The same woman who dragged him out for a drink and pretty much brought Jamison to his doorstep. He wouldn’t bring that up just yet. She probably wouldn’t believe him if he told her.

“Is it that obvious,” Mako said as he leaned back in his chair. “Last night was wild, to say the least. Fucked up my back pretty good.”

“Shit Mako,” Vega gasped. “You okay, big guy?”

“Yeah, it was just a tumble. Nothing to worry about.” He started up his personal workplace computer with a touch of a button. Though his eyes were on the monitor, Mako felt Vega’s eyes bore into the side of his skull. He looked over at her again. She was staring at him with a single bushy eyebrow raised, now leaning further into the cubicle.

“Vega, I’m fine.” Mako reassured the woman. “It’s nothing really.”

His comment caused Vega to frown. “You always say that when you’re trying to play tough guy when you’re hurting.” She said. “Like when you sprained your ankle on my porch while drunk. And that time when you gave yourself a black eye when you ran into a door while also drunk.”

“Okay, okay,” Mako silenced the woman with a dismissive hand before she could continue. “I fuck myself up a lot when I’m drunk.” He rested his elbow on the desk and sat his chin in the curve of his palm. “What are you getting at, Vee?” Might as well humor the woman while he was here.

“I’m saying that you need a day off if your back’s aching.” Vega explained, pointing a finger at his face. “Sitting at the computer all day will make it worse.” Then she winked, batting long eyelashes his way. “Trust me, I’m a doctor.”

Mako smirked, “Then where’s your degree, Miss Doctor?” he asked in a playful tone. He learned that Vega used to be a doctor before being stuck in a four by four cubicle next to him. Something about strange practices and questionable methods, she was never specific about the details.

“Oh shut your snout, pig boy.” She shoved his shoulder and flicked the feathery end of his ponytail. “But seriously, Mako. Head back home and get some rest. You probably got a shit ton of vacation days since you never take the day off.”

“Can’t,” Mako sat up straight, his back throbbed in protest, and placed his hands on the keyboard. The company had to order a large keyed keyboard for his huge fingers. “I promise to finish the bi-yearly report and do overtime today.”

“Fuck it, I’ll cover for you. Morrison won’t give a damn who does it as it gets done.” Said Vega. “Plus I owe you, remember? You can’t say no to that, Babe.”

Mako frowned at the particular nickname. He hated it when she called him that but she was right. He did have an abundance of vacation days. If he didn’t use them now, the company would force him to take some days off. The people in Human Resource would hound him with that shit if he didn’t act now. Why not take the day off? He needed a small break with all the events that conspired this morning. Vega would bug him if he kept refusing her offer.

“Fine, fine,” Mako said with a shrug. “You win. I’ll get my ass packing then. But I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Vega waved her hand at him. “Get the hell out of here, big guy.”

 

Mako felt as if a weight was being lifted from his shoulders when he reentered the elevator. He pressed the yellow button for the ground floor, leaned his body against the back of the elevator, and closed his eyes. With a sigh, thoughts of relaxation came to mind during the quiet ride down. A nice hot bath sounded wonderful right about now. Maybe light some incenses, put on some calming music, and relax with one of his favorite books. What a way to spend his now day off.

The elevator dinged as it hit its designated floor and Mako opened his eyes right when the metal doors parted. His plans of quietness and relaxation flew right out the window as the loud voice of Jamison entered his ears. Damn, he had forgotten about him. He never told the guy to go back hoe when they arrived at the office building. Mako kind of leapt off the rat’s back and hustled to the elevator without saying a single word to him. He was worried more about being late than what the young man did with himself. Mako had to remember that he was dealing with a mythical being and normal people wouldn’t react like he did.

Jamison was standing at the receptionist’s desk. Half of his body hung over the large wooden countertop and his face was in the woman who worked behind the desk’s personal space.

“Yer job is to just sit behind that desk all day?” He asked rather loudly. “It that what humans call a job nowadays? Anyone can do that, even me and I ain’t even human!” He reached out at the woman’s workspace, messing with her pens and papers.

The woman appeared somewhat tolerant of the man’s actions while he touched her things. But Mako knew it wouldn’t last long with the woman’s lips pressed tight into a thin line. It was about time for him to step in and save the poor woman.

Jamison hadn’t noticed Mako approach him until the large man hooked his finger under his collar and dragged him away.

“’Ey, ‘ey!” Jamison yelped, hobbling awkwardly as Mako led him towards the lobby’s entrance.

“Stop annoying people,” Mako demanded. He released Jamison when they left the building by throwing him without much care.

Stumbling a little then correcting himself, Jamison dusted off his clothes. “I wasn’t being annoyin’,” he claimed. “I was curious. No need to be manhandlin’ me like that. You have to by me dinner first before we get to the kinky stuff.” He puckered out his thin lips and blew out a kiss.

Mako scowled at the gesture.

“I’m kiddin’, mate!” Jamison laughed and elbowed the side of his torso several times. “You gotta learn to take a little ol’ joke here and there. Thought you had yer silly job to do. Done already?”

“Taking the day off” answered Mako. “Heading back home.”

“Oh! Want me to take ya back home then? I’ll get you there in a tick!”

“No,” Mako said in a monotone voice. He raised his head into the air, hailing down a cab close by.

“Huh, why not?” Jamison asked. “I want you to use my body as much as you can. I can get ya there much faster than these inferior techno-do-hickeys!”

A yellow cab car, dented by old age, pulled up to the curb near Mako. He grabbed the metal door handle and the door opened with a loud creak. “Because you’re too wild and destroy things in your path.” He motioned to the interior of the vehicle. “Get in.” he commanded.

The look either curiosity or confusion came to Jamison’s face. He looked at Mako, at the open door, then back at Mako. Hesitant, Jamison slid his body inside the cab all the way until he was behind the driver’s seat. Mako stuffed himself into the seat next to Jamison and slammed the door shut after him. He gave the driver his destination and the driver responded with a silent nod, driving away from the curb.

“Being wild and destoryin’ things is what I do!” Jamison broke through the quietness in the vehicle. “I’m the livin’ embodiment of pure mayhem! If I can’t be me, I’ll die!”

“Well you better start learning to if you’re going to be my servant.” Mako replied.

Jamison gasped and grabbed ahold of Mako’s forearm, his thin fingers barely went around his wrist. The way he was looking at him, eyes full of wonderment and complete adoration. It made Mako’s stomach churn. “You really mean it?” said Jamison. His voice sounded like he was on the verge of a break down. “I get to stay with ya?”

“Not if you’re going to make that stupid face at me the whole time,” Mako shoved his free hand in Jamison’s face and pushed him away. Jamison’s body squished up against the door and window, releasing his hold on his wrist. “And don’t touch me.” He warned.

“You got it, Mister Rutledge!” Jamison said. “I’ll be on my best behavior and be the best servant you ever had!”

 _You’re the first servant I ever had_ , Mako wanted to correct him but decided to keep his mouth shut as he watched the world pass him by. He had a servant now. Never thought it would happen in his life. It was something he only dreamed about. A whole new world of possibilities opened up to him. Though he expected someone less loud and more relaxed such as himself. Oh well, beggars couldn’t be choosers, he guessed.

 

“Okay, let see what you think a servant is supposed dress and why what you’re wearing is wrong.”

Mako sat back on his couch while Jamison was on his knees a few feet in front of him. Both of them returned to Mako’s apartment without incident.

Jamison looked down at himself. “It’s wrong?” he asked, the confusion apparent in his voice. “But I followed everything in that magazine.”

“Magazine? What magazine?” Mako questioned with a raised brow.

Digging through his apron’s pocket, Jamison produced a magazine and handed it to him. “This magazine. You told me to ‘educate myself’ and ‘read what a real servant is’.”

When he took the magazine in his hand, Mako frowned at both its condition and what kind of magazine it was. It was one of his more risqué magazine about everything maid. _Welcome Home, Master!: A Guide to a Fire Charged Fantasy!_ A man in a butler uniform unbuttoning his collared shirt seductively was on the cover. It appeared generously used with its spine frayed and corners bent. Again, he cursed drunk Mako for his actions and tossed the magazine on the couch beside him.

“Looks like we’re starting from scratch…” Mako mumbled to himself as he slapped his hands on his knees and stood to his feet. He towered over the kneeling Jamison, arms folded tight across his wide chest. “If you’re going to be my servant, you’re going to have to act like one.” He explained. “First is a housemaid, you clean up the place and keep it that way.”

“Cleanin’?” Jamison asked and he bounced up to his feet. “I can do that easily! Feast yer eyes on my amazin’ cleanin’ skills!”

A blast of orange light fired out of Jamison’s agape mouth, bathing the whole room entirely and blinding Mako in the process. Mako shielded his face with his arms to not be completely blinded. It felt like a wildfire all around him, but like the fire before, it didn’t hurt him. When the light died down, Mako lowered his arms. The room was spotless but not in the way Mako wanted it to be. Spotless, according to Jamison, meant eradicate everything in the room into nothingness and give it a nice shine. It was clean, a madman’s definition of clean.

“Spick and span,” Jamison declared with a smile. “Told you I can do that cleanin’ stuff easily!”

“You got rid of all my stuff…” Mako said. Even his kitchen was gone from existence also.

“And now you got plenty of room to live it! I think it’s a big improvement from all that junk you had before.”

Mako grabbed Jamison by the collar, their noses crushed against each other. “Put it back,” he growled.

“Okay, okay!” Jamison said as he brought a hand up perpendicular to his body. “No need to get all handsy. I can bring yer stuff back in a sec.” Another orange rune appeared at his fingertips and all the furniture slowly filled the room again. Mako released Jamison when every single piece of his belongings returned to their rightful place.

“Next is laundry maid,” Mako continued. “You wash my dirty clothes then fold my clean clothes.”

“I can handle that!” Jamison proclaimed then lifted a dirtied shirt to his face. “My fire breath can roast stains right out yer clothes!” He inhaled a large breath but before he could do anything else, Mako covered his mouth with his hand. Jamison looked up at the large man with his cheeks puffed out and rosy, confused.

“Maids and servants don’t clean things with fire,” Mako said.

Jamison whined at his words and he released the air from his cheeks. Grey smoke bellowed out from his mouth and nose.

Mako squeezed the bridge of his nose. He was scoring zero out of four so far, and it wasn’t looking great. “Third, parlor maid. You answer the door and greet people.”

Just as Mako finished his sentence, the doorbell rang. When it did, Jamison perked up and ran for the door.

“Don’t worry, mate.” Said Jamison, giving him a thumbs up and grabbing the door handle. “I got this.”

The door opened and before the apartment’s threshold stood a young woman in a brown uniform. She held a large package in her hands. “Good morning, sir.” The woman greeted in a cheery voice. “I just need you to sign for this package, please.”

“Piss off!” Jamison shouted. “We don’t need no stinkin’, inferior humans around!” A blast of hot orange-red flames shot out from his mouth, engulfing the woman in a torrent of fire. She didn’t have a chance to scream out in pain and was immediately reduced to a black pile of smoldering ashes. Mako blinked several times in disbelief.

Jamison then faced Mako and grinned big. “How about that? Got rid of ‘em pretty quick, didn’t I? If any more come back, I’ll send ‘em straight to the big guy downstairs.”

Mako slammed the door shut and shoved Jamison back, pinning him to the wall with his forearm. The smaller man was sweating bullets as the large man towered over him. He couldn’t believe what he did. Killing an innocent person who was just delivering a package. It had been so many years since he’d seen a murder right in front of his eyes.

“Are you mad about all that ‘inferior human’ talk?” Jamison chuckled nervously. His eyes darted around then focused on Mako again. “I was just jokin’! Yer not like any of those nosy cunts, Mister Rutledge!”

“Good maids and servants don’t kill people,” Mako said through a clenched jaw.

His words seemed to hit Jamison hard. His eyes widened and he averted his gaze to the side, fingers fiddled with his apron. Guilt reared its ugly head again and Mako began to feel the same way he did this morning. He grimaced at the sight, eased his weight off of Jamison, and stepped away to give the man some breathing room. He wasn’t sure why he felt bad now. Maybe it was that look on Jamison’s face and eyes.

“Let’s just move one to the last thing.” Mako finally said and took a seat at the small dining table. “And that would be a kitchen maid. You cook my meals. Show me what you can make.”

With a nod, Jamison hurried to the tiny kitchen that the apartment was built with. “Promise I won’t let ya down this time, Mister Rutledge!” He shouted over the raised counter, grabbing pots and pans. “I know a recipe from back in me neck of the woods that will blow you away!” The way he laughed was like that of a hyena; it did not assure Mako at all. If it was going to be like all the other times then he had to brace himself for the worse.

After ten minutes passed, Jamison slammed a white plate down in front of Mako. “’Ere ya are!” he announced. “Try me own barbecued tail!”

Mako stared at the plate, words completely lost from him. On the plate was Jamison’s fleshy tail, curled around itself and burnt to a golden brown. Where the tail had been sliced away from his body oozed a black, oily substance onto the plate. He poked at it with his fork and more black ooze squirted out of the meat onto the table. The ooze started to eat away at the ceramic and the wood of both the plate and wood.

“What the hell…” Mako said aloud.

“Dig in, mate!” Jamison urged. “Don’t want it to get cold, now do ya?”

Mako pushed the plate away and stood up from his seat. “I’m not eating that.”

“What?!” Jamison sounded offended at his statement. “Why not? Barbecued Rat God Tail sells big bucks where I come from! I got thousands of kings and queens linin’ up and beggin’ me for my tail back home!”

“And I’m not one of them,” replied Mako.

“The corrosive blood’s a turn off, ain’t it?” Jamison pulled the tail off the plate. “Shoulda cooked it longer.”

“Then I really won’t eat your tail.”

Suddenly, Jamison shoved the large end of his tail into his mouth. He slurped the entire thing down without chewing like it was a huge spaghetti noodle. How the meat bulged in his throat as it wiggled down made Mako grimace again. A relived sigh came from Jamison, finished with his quick snack, and a new tail appeared where the old one once been.

“You’re a shit servant if you don’t know how to be a servant,” Mako commented as he flopped back down on his couch. “You don’t know a damn thing.”

Jamison ran up to his side with haste, eyes sparkling and ears twitching wildly. “Then I’ll learn to be the damn best servant this world has ever seen! Tell me what you hate so I can ‘member it later.”

“Well, I don’t eat pork and I’m allergic to strawberries.”

“Got it,” Jamison said. He traced the words on the palm of his hand with his index finger. Inaudible mumbles came from him as he mouthed words under his breath.

“Wait,” Mako interrupted. “Why not ask me what I like first?”

“Huh?” Jamison stopped what he was doing, looked at him, and then shook his head. “Can’t do that. That’s how people off ya. They get close to ya, get all buddy-buddy, and learn yer weakness then BAM! They kill ya in cold blood and steal all the treasure ya got!”

“Sounds just like humans,” Mako said.

“But I can tell ya what I like,” Jamison rested his hands on the man’s large belly. Their noses were pressed together again, round and short against long and pointed. His eyes, on closer inspection, were a mixture of orange and amber and locked onto Mako’s. “It’s you,” His lips brushed against Mako’s lips. They were dry and chapped, as if he licked them too many times in the past. “I love ya, Mister Rutledge.”

The hot breath on his face and the closeness of their bodies caused Mako’s stomach to churn awkwardly. Anger then immediately replaced the awkwardness and he shoved Jamison away to the floor. The feeling was completely one-sided. Like he was going to fall for whatever Jamison was. Yeah, Mako was bisexual but he wasn’t looking for love or companionship at that moment of time. He wasn’t that desperate.

Jamison scrambled to his feet. “I can’t deny the feelin’s I have fer ya!” he said. “You saved me and I’ll repay ya with my whole body and soul! You gotta use me to take you to work again tomorrow. Please, Mister Rutledge?” He was inches away from his face again.

“Not happening,” Mako rejected.

“And why not?”

“Because,” Mako got up to his feet and Jamison stepped backwards. “A servant’s place is at home holding down the fort.”

With a tilt of his head, Jamison parroted his words, “Holdin’ down the fort…?”

“The world is a dangerous place already,” Mako explained and he walked towards the sliding glass doors which led to the small balcony. “And you’re one of the more powerful gods, right?”

“If you call summonin’ hellfire and bringin’ the end of the human race powerful,” he heard Jamison reply behind his back.

Mako glanced over his shoulder at the lanky man. “Yes I do and don’t do that.” His eyes returned to the glass doors. “It’s better for you to stay here and protect my things.” He faced Jamison and placed his hands on his hips. “You got it?”

With a grin that stretched from ear to ear, Jamison pumped his fist into the air. “Yeah!” he cheered. “Consider yer home and belongin’s guarded! I’ll die before I let any drongos touch yer things!”

Mako rolled his eyes. At least he was enthusiastic. Over the top, but enthusiastic about his job. God, what did he get himself into?  


	3. Getting a Rat to do a Human's Job

“I’m taking a bath,” Mako told Jamison. Under the curve of his muscular left arm was a small wicker basket filled with his relax day materials. Bath salts, high end body wash, shampoo, and conditioner; he spoiled himself when it came to his relax day. He also had the fluffiest towel he owned draped over his right shoulder.

“You want me to wash yer back?” asked Jamison. A gasp came from him and he closed the space between him and Mako. He grabbed ahold of Mako’s tie, twisting it around his hand, and a pick blush appeared across his freckled cheeks. “Of maybe ya want me to wash yer body?” His tail wiggled suggestively behind his body, orange eyes full with lust, and his free hand pressed against Mako’s stomach. “I know how to be rrrrrr-real thorough too…”

It took all the strength and willpower in Mako’s body to not grab Jamison by the twiggy neck and snap it like a toothpick. He wouldn’t be much of a servant if he had a broken neck. His right hand clasped around the entirety of Jamison’s triangular head, giving it a tiny squeeze. Those orange eyes of his widened as fear replaced the lust almost immediately and he released the tie, causing it to slip slowly from his hold. Mako smirked. Though Jamison was some sort of god, at least the little shit knew who was in charge under this roof.

“I don’t need your help,” Mako responded then let go of his head. “I want you to hold down the fort while I’m taking my bath. And take any calls that come in.”

Jamison cocked his head to the side and his ears flicked. “What’s a calls?”

Right, rat god. He almost forgotten who and what he was dealing with. Mako motioned to the phone nearby on top of several year old phonebooks. It was an old model of phone, with a coiled cord connected to the receiver and hooked to the wall by a landline. He never like the fancy new phone; call him old-fashion. “This is a phone,” he explained. “You make and answer calls with it. When it rings, you pick up the receiver. They talk then you talk. Got it?”

“Sounds easy enough,” Jamison replied.

“Good,” Mako said with a nod of his head. He started to head for the bathroom but stopped in his tracks before he opened the door. “And Jamison?” he added, eyes still on the door.

The servant stood at attention right when his name was called. “Yeah, Mister Rutledge?” he answered obediently.

“Don’t fuck this up.” Mako’s order was rough like sandpaper and he disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

Jamison smiled from ear to ear and bounced on the tips of his toes. “I won’t let you down, Mister Rutledge. I’ll certainly win yer love ‘n praise!” A frown replaced his smile in an instant and he halted in his excited hopping to scratch his chin in confusion. How was he going to do that? Holding down the fort? The familiar images of humans in suits of armor guarding castles and towns came to mind from back home. Was that what he meant?

He couldn’t make heads or tails with the whole ‘holding down the fort’ thing. It was beginning to frustrate him. Jamison’s eyes then fell upon the phone Mister Rutledge showed him earlier.

“So this is what humans use fer communication?” Jamison mumbled to himself. His fingertips touched the white plastic of the phone and his index finger traced down the length of the receiver. It was difficult to hide the smug grin on his face. “What an inferior species…” He picked up the receiver and put it up against his left ear. Maybe someone could help him out with understanding this ‘holding down the fort’. Jamison summoned a small orange magic circle over the phone and it rang once before the person on the other side picked up.

“Moshi moshi,” a male voice greeted.

“Hanzo!” Jamison said. “Just the dragon I wanna talk to!”

“Jamison? Thought you were dead.” He sounded disappointed.

“It takes more than a few humans to drag this rat down!” Jamison countered. “I was wonderin’ what you know ‘bout holdin’ down forts.”

The air around the phone grew thick with tension and hostility but it did not detour Jamison. “Kill at the intruders whom step into your territory.” Hanzo’s monotonous voice leaked out the phone like toxic sludge. “Strike where they least expect it. Kill them with curses. Turn their bones into dust. Protect what is rightfully yours.”

After that statement, Jamison hung up the phone with a satisfied smile on his face. The he remembered that Mister Rutledge didn’t want him to kill anyone and his shoulders stumped in defeat. What was he going to do now? The rules in this world were too strict for him. A litter bit of murder here and there never hurt anyone. Another person came to mind who he could get advice from and he picked up the receiver again. This one would certainly work this time. The phone rang several times then the person on the other end picked up.

“’Ey Lu!” Jamison greeted with much fondness. “Haven’t talked to ya in, what, forever?”

“Jamie? Is that you?” The male voice over the phone tenderly. “It’s been ages! How are you?”

For the longest time, the two men caught up with each other. Jamison almost forgot what he originally called for, lost in memories of past events. It was when Lu brought up why he was calling that Jamison remembered. Jamison quickly relayed his problem to his friend.

“So this Rutledge character wants you to protect his territory without murdering people?” Lu concluded.

“Yeah! I mean, how am I ‘pose to not kill people?” Jamison stated, displeased. “A God of Mayhem has to kill or why would they be a God in the first place?”

“Hmm. What you need are wards, Jamie.”

“Wards?” Jamison repeated. “Ya mean the spells you usually use, right?”

“You got it. Wards keep bad things out without the messiness of murder.” Lu informed. “They’re easy to put up. Just place them in every entrance way for complete coverage of the territory.”

Jamison was quick to make a mental note of everything his friend told him. Wards: place them in entrances; got it. Easy enough for even someone like him.

“And Jamie?”

Jamison perked up at the sound of his nickname being called. “Hmm?”

“Are you…happy with this Mister Rutledge? And living in the humans’ world?” The way Lu said those words, Jamison could feel the uncertainty and the familiar sense of longing from over the phone. A soft sigh passed his lips and he closed his eyes. Waves of nostalgia came over him and the smell of tropic air wafted pass his nose for only a moment before fading back to the stuffy scent of the apartment.

With a slow nod and a tiny smile, Jamison answered, “I am!” There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he made the right choice. To be in this world by Mister Rutledge’s side; the thought brought a blush to Jamison’s cheeks. This was where he truly belonged.

********

Clouds of hot steams bellowed out of the bathroom as the door was thrown open. Mako, with a towel wrapped tight below his belly and wet hair strands stuck to his face, stepped out into the chilled air of the apartment. All the aches and pains he felt before drained away with the warm bath water in the tub. As much as he wanted to stay and melt into the tub, Mako had to finish his bath. He didn’t want to leave Jamison by himself for too long.

Another step into the room and Mako realized quickly that something was wrong. When Mako attempted to walk towards his bedroom, he found himself unable to move any further. No matter how much he tried to move, his legs refused to obey his commands. He was able to move the rest of his body, only his legs would not move.

“Jamison?” Mako called out. He knew that his new servant had to be behind the cause of his sudden paralysis.

The man popped up from the couch and draped his body over the back of the furniture. “Took ya long enough! Do all you humans take that long to just wash yerself? I just roll ‘round in the dirt to get all the bugs out my fur. Why can’t humans do that?”

“Is there a reason I can’t move my legs?” Mako asked, ignoring everything Jamison had told him.

“’Cause I put up a bunch of Hold Person wards ‘round the whole place!” replied Jamison as he waved his arms in the air. “You told me to hold down the fort without killin’ anyone and I did! I put them everywhere so no one could just walk in ‘n do whatever they want. Pretty good, right?”

Mako was irritated, yeah, but Jamison did do what he was supposed to do. Even if that meant he was unable to move for the moment. He followed his orders in his own way, the only way he knew how. “Yeah,” Mako said with a tired nod. “You did. Good job.”

Jamison gasped. His eyes grew large in shock, his cheeks went rosy, and his ears fluttered like a pair of bird’s wings. With a gitty laugh, Jamison leapt off the couch, arms extended towards the larger man. Mako didn’t make the effort to raise his hands and catch him. Hell, he braced himself for the twiggy man to crash into him and fall to the floor. He didn’t collide with him. Instead, Jamison curled his long arms around Mako’s muscular neck and let his body dangle while he nuzzled his cheek against Mako’s lovingly. Chatters and clicks came from Jamison, loud and very vocal.

Mako wanted to rip him off, throw him to the floor, and demand him to remove the ward from hi. Though Mako never did it and he remained there with his arms at his sides, minimizing contact with the touchy-feely man. Like he needed to live some kind of fictional fantasy were he fell for his manic servant. That kind of romantic plot was better in the graphic novels and books he collected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter is a little short. Since the layout of the show is weird, some chapter may be long or short.


	4. Jamison Meets Vega

Tuesday was another uneventful work day for Mako. Nothing but sitting in his cubicle, staring at a computer screen, and typing away at his keyboard until his fingers went numb. That was his job he signed up for and he did it well. He stretched his arms over his head and rolled his neck a few times, causing bones to pop per usual with the gesture. God, he was tired. Couldn’t wait to get off of work and get home. His eyes focused on the window to his right, the only opening to the outside world. Night began to take its hold onto the city, transforming it into a world of sin Mako somehow grew attached to. It wasn’t like the farmhouse back home but the city had its charm. And good bars. Mostly the bars kept him around.

Mako looked over at the clock on his desk, though his computer told the time digitally. He liked his piggy clock better. It had its charm too. 7:52 P.M, the clock hands on the body of the pig pointed to. Eight minutes before he was able to clock out for the night and head home. Dinner came to mind as he watched the seconds tick forward at a snail’s pace. Jamison better not try to feed him his cooked tail again or he was going to hang him off the balcony by his legs.

“Ready to get the hell outta here, Big Mac?”  It was Vega again, hanging over the cubicle partition as always.

“How many nicknames do you have for me anyway?” Mako had to ask. She never called him by his real name unless she was being completely serious.

“About…” Her grey eyes rolled around in thought for a moment, then she focused back on Mako. “Ten, think and still growin’. Wanna go out for drinks tonight? I’m payin’.”

Mako wasn’t the type of guy to turn down a free drink. “Alright. But only one round this time, okay?”

Vega shrugged with a chuckle. “I can’t make any promises that only one round will happen.”

With their jackets and briefcases in tow, the two coworkers stepped out of the elevator and into the quiet lobby of the building.

“You know you could hang out with any other guy,” Mako commeted to break the silence between them. “Why do you want to hang out with me?”

“Because I enjoy your company,” the woman replied quickly. “Plus you’re like the only guy who hasn’t tried to get into my pants. You’re a good friend.”

Mako snorted. “Touching.”

Vega halted in her tracks which caught Mako’s attention in an instant. She looked far ahead of her. “Why’s that guys staring at us? You know him, Mako?” She pointed her finger at a person seated in the waiting area.

Mako followed the woman’s finger and a frown appeared on his face who he realized who it was. It was Jamison, sitting with his legs folded on the chair’s cushion and arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t just staring at them, he was glaring as if he could conjure daggers and send them in their direction. The hostility around Jamison was heavy like molasses and it filled the large room the longer his eyes were locked on the two. Mako groaned and dragged his hand down his face. Since Vega had saw Jamison already, might as well introduce her to him.

“I’m Jamison Rutledge!” Jamison announced with a fake smile on his face. So fake that Mako expected his face to crack into pieces. “I’m Mister Rutledge’s new live-in servant! New **violent** live-in servant!”

“He’s from abroad, studying to be a maid.” Mako lied.

Vega nodded, taking his lie without question. “Hey, the name’s Vega Nellis. I work with Mako in accounting.” She held her open hand out to the taller man. “It’s nice to meet you, Jamison.”

Jamison glanced at her hand then back at her face. “Charmed!” he said with another forced smile.

______________________

After some awkward introductions, the group left the office building into the dark night of the city. Streetlights and neon lights of passing stores illuminated their path as they travelled down the sidewalk. Jamison stood between this Vega lady and Mister Rutledge while they walked. Like he was going to let this harlot seduce his Mister Rutledge. She didn’t need to get close to what was his treasure. He observed Vega’s body from the corner of his right eye. Large tits, flashy cleavage, a skirt that barely came up to her knees; Jamison snorted and held his head upwards. What a slut. Did she have no shame about what she looked like in public? She was no different from the human women back in his home world. Jamison would not allow this to happen. Over his dead body.

The three arrived at a small bar on the intersection of two busy streets. The interior of the bar was small just as it was on the outside. Many red leather booths occupied the right side while bar stools and the bar itself was on the left. Vega picked the booth farthest from the entrance and they took their seats. Jamison made sure Vega sat opposite of Mister Rutledge while he sat closest to Mister Rutledge on the inside of the booth.

“I think we should start off the night with some shots,” Vega declared. “Ready for a challenge, old man?”

“We’re the same age, Vega.” Mister Rutledge replied. “I should call you old woman then.”

The woman turned her attention to Jamison. “Hey Jamison, wanna join us on our fight against sobriety?” she asked.

“Nah,” was Jamison’s answer. “You two have yer fun.” No one around him knew how difficult it was to say that statement. As if he wanted her to enjoy herself.

Vega shrugged her shoulders, “Suit yourself,” and she grinned. “More for us, I guess. Waiter! Bring some shots over here, will ya?!”

When the waiter came over to their booth, Jamison ordered a non-alcoholic boba tea for himself. He sipped quietly on his orange drink, rolling the balls of tapioca on his tongue as he watched the two down their shots. One round of shots suddenly turned to four before they ordered their drinks. Jamison learned that Mister Rutledge liked his dark liquors as the large man chugged half a mug of his whiskey cocktail.

Mister Rutledge let out a large sigh when he pulled the mug away from his lips. “I love a good drink after work!” he shouted. “Really hits the spot!”

The unfamiliar pink blush across Mister Rutledge’s cheeks and his loud, soul shaking laughter had Jamison smiling at the sight. Seeing him unwind like that made him appear much more attractive than ever before. He was the cutest. Jamison chewed on the tapioca balls as his eyes rested on Vega, who slurped down her drink. How could he get rid of this woman? An idea came to mind and a coy smile appeared on his face. He’ll just show her how close he and Mister Rutledge were! That would show her.

“I’m serious, Mako.” Vega said. “We’re pretty much second class employees to this company. What we do is practically slave labor. If it wasn’t for us, investors would see the true faults in the company’s structure.”

“But that’s what we’re there for,” Mister Rutledge retorted. “To make sure that doesn’t happen. Our ability in accounting theory is what keeps this company afloat. The Viskhar Corporation values us greatly for it.”

Vega scoffed, waving her hand in the air. “That may be so but I don’t see the higher-ups fudging financial statements on a regular ‘cause they can’t stop wirin’ money to their personal bank accounts. The whole company is going to the shitter.”

Jamison’s head spun as he attempted to grasp their conversation. What were they talking about? Please speak in words he understood, he pled from the safety of his mind.

A feminine giggle brought him away from his thoughts. It was Vega and Jamison scowled hard. “Sorry Jamison,” she apologized “We’re not really talking about anything you can join in to, are we?”

“It’s fine!” Jamison snapped. “It’s just yer conversation is too stupid that I didn’t feel like joinin’ it!”

“Okay…?” the woman said, taking another sip of her drink.”

“We should be talkin’ ‘bout war and how a small apocalypse would wipe out everything instead! But I had enough of this shit and I’m tired of bein’ nice!” Fire ignited in Jamison’s eyes. Fangs and claws exploded from his mouths and hands on command. He shot up from his seat and roared, “I’ll melt yer soul to yer blackened bones!”

The mug beside him slammed down hard on the table and Jamison stopped in his tracks, slinking away as he returned to normal. “Mister Rutledge?” Fear made his blood run cold.

“Jam-mie-ssonnnn….” His name slurred out the large man’s mouth. “What did I say…” His head fell to the side. Those red eyes of his glared hard at Jamison with drunken anger. “Good maids and servants don’t kill people!”

Jamison flinched at his words, but it was the truth. He did say that same exact sentence to him earlier before. How could he forget so quickly?

“And what’s with your outfit, huh?” Mister Rutledge began to rant. “It looks like you’re going to some cheap ass convention! Don’t you give a damn what you look like to other people? Have some damn self-respect!”

“You’re right, big guy!” Vega shouted. She slammed her fist down on the table, causing the glasses to clatter and shake. “He looks like he’s gonna lose a cosplay contest! And what’s with those ears? It clashes too much with your outfit!”

“I don’t know!” Jamison shouted back. “Rats have ears like mine! What do ya want me to say, woman?!”

Mister Rutledge grabbed Jamison by his bowtie and pulled him in close so that their faces were touching. “Take it off.” He mumbled.

“W-what?” He wasn’t sure he heard correctly.

“I said: Take! It! Off!” Before Jamison knew, Mister Rutledge grasped the front of his shirt and tore it open with ease. Buttons flew all over the places, bouncing off the walls and clattering to a stop against the table. Jamison’s chest was exposed to the chilled barroom air.

“Whoo!” Vega cheered. She leaned back in her booth and raised her mug high. “Now we’re getting somewhere! Shake that ass, cosplay boy! Let see what you’re made of!”

Jamison couldn’t process what Vega said to him and not a second later, Mister Rutledge was on his case again.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Mister Rutledge’s voice filled the entire bar. It caused the other bar patrons to look in their direction. “Where’s your shame, servant?! Cosplay me crazy!” He tugged repeatedly on Jamison’s pants. “Give me more! What about being a good servant, huh?! And a good butler too!”

Stripping for Mister Rutledge would be sexy if Jamison wasn’t scared out of his wits. The man was frightening when he was drunk, scarier that any human he had met before. Jamison had attempted to please his drunken master’s over-the-top demands. No matter how crazy they sounded to him. What a world this was. The Great God of Mayhem: Jamison, trembling at the mercy of a human? People back home would never believe it.

All of Mister Rutledge’s ranting and raving combined with Vega’s yelling brought the manager of the establishment out of hiding. Moments later, three were shoved out of the bar and onto the unforgiving streets.

“Sorry about all that, Jamison.” Vega apologized as the three journeyed down the sidewalk again. “I get a little…uppity with cosplay, especially when it comes to everything maid and butler. It’s great that I have someone to talk to about my passion.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Jamison replied, holding up the blackened out Mister Rutledge by leaning the larger man’s body against his. “If we’re gonna be sharin’ our secrets with each other, I bet ya wouldn’t mind seein’ a lil’ surprise…” An orange glow was casted upon Jamison’s body and he grew, returning to his giant rat form. Mister Rutledge rested snug and comfortably on his back on an area that wasn’t set aflame, snoring softly. Jamison craned his neck back to look down at the tiny human beside him.

Vega stared up at him with her mouth slightly agape before she chuckled and scratched her head. “Looks like I drank too much,” the woman concluded. “You really like Mako, don’t you? He musta done something big to get someone like you to be all over him.”

“Yea,” the rat god answered, turning his head away from her. He casted a perception spell across the entirety of his body and disappeared out of the sight of human eyes. “Just so ya know, I hate yer damn guts. Ya dipstick.” His thunderous footsteps shook the ground and his tail swayed from side to side, causing gusts of wind to hit Vega hard. As he stomped away, Jamison did not look back to see the woman’s reaction to his words. He had seen enough of her to last him several lifetimes.              


	5. Along Came Morgan

Jamison’s heart beated slowly as he stood in darkness by his lonesome. This was a familiar area to him. He inhaled then released a torrent of metal melting flames from his mouth upon exhaling. A large cloud of black smoke exploded out from the apartment’s open balcony door. Bellows of smoke rose to the sky. And that’s how Mako and Jamison ended up walking down the sidewalk together with reuseable bag hanging on their arms.

“Seriously Jamison,” said Mako. “What made you think a kitchen fire was a good thing?”

Jamison rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and replied, “It was more like an instinct than thinkin’.”

“You know that the stove makes fire, right?”

“Yeah but the thing wasn’t gettin’ hot fast enough!” Jamison answered. “I thought my flames would give it a lil kick to start it up.”

Mako sighed and shook his head in disapproval. Sometimes he wondered if Jamison had brain damage. It appeared like he did in some way. The two men walked near an opening leading to an outside mall. While Jamison halted, Mako continued walking until he noticed his servant wasn’t following him.

“Aren’t we goin’ to the farmer’s market?” Jamison asked, pointing down the small street.

“Stuff’s expensive,” was Mako’s response. “Why not go to the big supermarket down the block?”

“Ugh,” Jamison’s face twisted with disgust. “That place is like a dungeon maze. Reminds me of when some humans tricked me into a maze and I got trapped for three days in that thing!”

Godly Post Traumatic Stress Disorder; now Mako had heard of it all. “And the farmer’s market is better?” he asked.

Jamison nodded. “Yeah. A nice open place where you can see the exits. Like a bazaar.”

Mako gave in. As much as Jamison was annoying and loud, he didn’t want to cause the guy discomfort or bad memories. The place would surely put a dent in his wallet but it didn’t matter really. He would and could make more money. Side by side, Mako and Jamison walked beneath the large banner and into the market. Little stores and carts lined the wide, tan bricked street and people traveled about in their own worlds. Mako looked over at Jamison, who had his sight ahead of him and was humming some sort of tune to himself. He realized that besides the mention of PTSD he just learned, Mako knew nothing about Jamison as a person. It made him think a little. Why not learn more about his servant and see what made him tick? Well, besides fire and mayhem, that is.

“Seafood!” Mako overheard Jamison exclaim through his thoughts and he soon found himself being dragged behind the lanky man like a can on a string. Jamison stopped in front of a shop with a display of whole fish on ice in the storefront. Mako crashed into him yet Jamison barely moved an inch on impact. Straightening himself out and smoothing the wrinkles from his shirt, Mako looked up at the sign over the shop’s entrance.  _ Meka Fresh Seafood _ : the sign read in bold impact font and a mischievous yet cute bunny underneath the words.

“Hiya, Jamie!” A young woman about in her early twenties greeted in a cheery voice. She was much shorter than both Jamison and Mako himself. Long brown hair went pass her small shoulders and she had the most particular pink triangular tattoos on her cream colored cheeks.

“G’day Bugs!” Jamison returned the greeting with a wave. “Workin’ the shop today, huh?”

Wait, what? Mako looked at the woman then at Jamison both in shock and confusion. How did they know each other and they were even on nickname basis? 

The woman sighed and stuck her bottom lip out. “Yeah,” she pouted, “Dad’s got a doctor’s appointment so it’s just me today.” She then noticed Mako and nodded her head in his direction. “Who’s the big guy, Jamie? Is he a friend of yours? First time I’ve seen him and I would’ve remembered a guy like him.”

Jamison beamed, “He’s my master, Mister Rutledge!”

“Hey...” Mako mumbled under his breath. He didn’t like Jamison voicing that he was his master to anyone without a second thought. Made Mako feel weird in his stomach.

His greeting had the woman behind the glass counter giggling. “Jamie’s a funny guy, isn’t he? Never a dull moment with him around! So the usual, Jamie? I got some extra fillets for you too!”

“Thank, mate!”

“Tell me how and why you’re friends with the fishwife,” asked Mako as the pair left the seafood shop behind with one of their bags filled with fish. Tuna, mackerel, and salmon; a good selection of fish all for a low price. His wallet certainly thanked him.

“Friends?” Jamison sounded completely confused at the word used in that context. “Me and Hana aren’t friends. I was just nice to her so she’s been nice to me and gives me free stuff!”

“You don’t know how humans work at all, do you?” Mako concluded from his comment.

“But our relationship is different,” Jamison added. “We share mutual love, like a planet path couple!”

“That’s not how the metaphor goes. Like at all.”

The further they went through the farmer’s market, the more random people came up and greeted Jamison like they were long lost friends. And the servant was just taking it all in like a damn social butterfly. To the butcher down to children who passed with their parents, Jamison seened to know everyone in the whole place. For a person who looked down on humans and called them inferior, Jamison had all the people here wrapped tight around his fingers. Still, Mako was surprised that his mythical, non-human servant had more of a social life than he did. It was kind of sad in a way.

There was a scream that rang out through the entirety of the market. It grabbed everyone’s attention. “Help, someone!” a woman shouted and pointed at a young man fleeing on foot. “He stole my purse!”

Mako didn’t give the act another thought. Stuff got stolen almost everyday. That was life sometimes.

“Oi, Mister Rutledge! Lemme get ‘im!” Jamison asked, bouncing back and forth on each foot like an excited child on Christmas.

“Just don’t go overboard, okay?” Mako warned, taking the bag out of Jamison’s grasp. “I’m serious, Jamison.”

In response, Jamison gave him a grin and a thumbs up. “Self control is me middle name! Here I go!” Like a gold medal track star, Jamison launched himself forward into a inhumanly fast sprint. His speed created a wild tailwind behind him, kicking up dust and ruffling the clothing of bystanders. In the blink of an eye, Jamison was directly behind the purse snatcher with a grin still on his face. He grabbed the thief by his leg, swung his arm backwards, and slammed the punk down on the ground like a rag doll. The street collapsed and cracked on impact. The guy was reduced to a moaning and twitching mess. Standing tall over his defeated enemy, Jamison dusted his hands off on his pants. Then he realized all the eyes on him.

Everyone was quiet and stared at Jamison with wide eyes. The silence was deafening. Mako had a feeling something like that would happen. He should have told Jamison to hold back even further. It was time to bail him out of this predicament. Mako made his way towards Jamison until the sudden crowd of people blocked him from getting closer. They were gathered all around his servant, singing praises and cheering.

“Way to go, Jamie!” Hana exclaimed as she playfully punched his arm. “Looking out for us. What a hero!”

_ “You’re so strong!” “Unbelievable!” “You have to teach me how to do that!” _ And chatter went on and on.

Mako pushed through the crowd, parting it with both his height and weight. He grabbed ahold of Jamison’s hand and pulled his servant away from the people, leading him back to the market’s entrance. The residents of the market were still cheering when the two men turned the corner and out of their sight. It was a good thing they purchased everything they needed before the incident.

“T-that was scary, wasn’t it…?” Jamison commented with a soft nervous chuckle. “Thought they were gonna to do something to me…”

Make glanced over his shoulder at Jamison. The blond had his head down, looking to his side. Probably feeling an assortment of emotions from the ordeal. With a grunt and returning his eyes on the sidewalk, Mako said, “Shoulda told you to hold back more. It was my fault.”

There was a brief moment of silence between the two men as they continued walking until Jamison spoke up. “Y-yer hand, mate…” he stammered, looking at their hands entwined. Mako wasn’t dragging him along. He was merely leading him forward with unusual gentleness.

“...Wanna keeping holding on for a little longer?” the larger man asked, tightening his grip ever so slightly.

The freckled skin of Jamison’s cheeks went pink and he averted his gaze to the ground. “Y-yeah, sure…” he mumbled and squeezed the handles of the bags he held in his free hand. Jamison wasn’t going to wash his hand for a long time.

As Mako and Jamison walked further away, they hadn’t noticed the small shadow tailgating them from a distance. It kept just out of sight; its shiny blue eyes watched their every movement.

*******************

Mako lounged back on the couch, eyes focused on the television but his mind didn’t intake the information on the screen. His mind wandered to things he had to do or planned to do since Jamison was out shopping. He could do much more things when he wasn’t babysitting Jamison all the time. The kid had so much to learn what and what not to do in this world. At least he understood the premise of shopping for food and using money to buy things. Give the kid a list and money and off he went. Hopefully Jamison didn’t screw up this time.

The doorbell rang, a two tone ding, and Mako turned his head towards the noise. Strange, he wasn’t expecting any people coming over (like he had many friends), or deliveries he was waiting for. Mako got up from his seat and trudged to the door.  _ It better not be a door-to-door salesman _ , he thought as he grabbed the doorknob and gave it a twist. He always hated them and how they were made to waste people’s time.

The door swung open inward, bringing in natural light into the apartment. No one was there waiting for him. Only the sky and the passing clouds greeted him. Mako peered down the hallway to the left then to the right. Not a soul occupied the area. Mako snorted. Damn pranksters, they never knew when to not mess with him. He was about to closed the door and return to his show when his eyes fell upon a person much shorter than him in front of him. Of course he wouldn’t see them with his height.

Back inside the apartment, Mako had another predicament on his hands. And the predicament in question was a child. Not one of those kids living in the apartment complex, this one was different. The child which sat on his sofa quietly stared Mako down with intense icy blue eyes. Her skintone was light brown with dark brown blemishes dotting her skin. Her outfit was strange compared to other children. She wore red and gold monk robes, covering one of her shoulders while leaving the other shoulder free. She was barefooted also. Short, curly brown hair rest atop of her head along with two pointed dog ears. A fluffy, curved dog tail protruded out from the child’s backside. Mako concluded almost immediately that she had to be one of Jamison’s friend. There was no doubt about it. Not like he always got children with animal characteristics at  his doorstep ever.

Well, he had to do something about her. “You got a name, kid?” he finally asked.

There was a pause then the kid replied with a shout, “You...release Rat from yer spell!” and she pointed a finger at his judgingly.

With a raised eyebrow, Mako shook his head. “What?”

“Me know what you did,” she explained in a hushed tone before she hopped off the couch and began to yell. “You casted a spell on Rat to make him fall in love with you. You bastard!”

“Hmm?” Mako was completely puzzled at the kid’s bold accusations.

“You bloated pig!” the kid was now right in front of Mako, hands balled up tight into fists.

He couldn’t believe the mouth on this kid. She had a lot of nerve talking like a sailor to her elder. Perhaps they didn’t teach manners wherever Jamison came from. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, kid.” Mako replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t know nothing about magic or whatever.”

“Give him back, you bastard!” The kid grabbed onto Mako’s shirt and hung off with her legs flailing about. “Give him back!”

No matter what Mako did, the kid refused to let go of him. Her nails started to dig into his skin beneath his shirt. Mako began to back up to the door, getting ready to toss the kid right out the apartment.

“I’m back!” He heard Jamison announce behind him “They didn’t have the ice cream ya liked so I got you some vanilla instead.” Mako looked over his shoulder, pleading to his servant to help with his eyes. Jamison must have noticed the hands holding onto the larger man’s sides because he flew into an immediate rage. “Mister Rutledge, are you cheatin’ on me?!” he roared. Veins in his forehead twitched and he growled as his chest heaved with each breath.

“Don’t make this weirder than it already is,” said Mako.

“Rat!” the child shouted. She released Mako’s shirt, ran to Jamison, clinged to his pants, and shoved her face into his shirt. “Rat...”

Jamison relaxed, placed a hand on the child’s head, and looked up at Mako with an eyebrow raised.

“This is Morgan Shea or Scrappup, as I like to call him.” Jamison introduced. The three returned to the living room instead of standing in the foyer. Morgan sat back on the sofa while the adults remained standing in front of her. “He’s the Psychic Sage of Children and a good friend of mine. What are ya doin’ here anyway?”

“Rat disappeared and left me all alone so me followed his scent,” answered Morgan.

“Disappeared?” parroted Mako then scolded his servant, “Jamison, you should have told here where you were going.”

Jamison’s shoulders slumped and he mumbled, “I know…”

“Why Rat wear those strange clothes?” Morgan asked, rising to her feet. “Rat has to come back home with me. Me need you, Rat.” she pled.

Jamison turned his body away from the child, hands in his pockets. “I ain’t goin’ back there,” he said in a low tone. Morgan’s bottom lip trembled. Then Jamison wrapped his arms around Mako’s left bicep and a big, crooked tooth grin appeared on his face. “‘Cause I’m in love with MIster Rutledge!” he proclaimed.

“Me knew it!” Morgan snapped. “Me saw you two holdin’ hands when you left the market! You trashy pig! Me will kill you and get Rat back.” The child leapt at the round man. “Now die!”

Mako held Morgan back at arm’s length by the top of her head. She flailed her arms in circles, grunting and whining, barely touching him. Morgan fell over on the floor in defeat, panting and struggling to get to her feet.

“What’s wrong, Scrappy?” Jamison asked, leaning down over the child. “Yer much stronger than this. What happened to ya?”

Morgan frowned and whimpered, “Rat’s power special here. There aren’t any strong mediation zones in this world. Me so tired…”

“Does that mean you can’t get home, Morgan?” Mako pieced together.

The child’s body stiffened and she quickly turned her back to the older man. “No,” she muttered. “That’s not true. Shut up, you dumb bastard.”

“Then tell me,” said Mako, “Do you even have a place to stay while you’re here?”

Morgan flinched and yelped. Her body now trembled as she held her head down low. She didn’t reply to his question. She only sniffled and rubbed her nose with her forearm.

“Alright Scrappy,” Jamison warned, “You better tell us why yer really here. And it better now be for Mister Rutledge ‘cause ya can forget about that!”

Mako smacked his servant on his chest with the backside of his hand. “Jamison, shut up for a minute.”

Taking a seat back on the couch and averting her eyes to the floor, Morgan explained herself in a tiny voice.

“Banished?” Mako repeated, “For eating chocolate during a fast?” It sounded incredibly over the top for a punishment. Especially a punishment for a small child.

“Scrappy always loved his sweets. The tribe he comes from is uptight as hell,” said Jamison  condescendingly. “More than the rules in this world. Hate the lot of them. They probably sent him here to make sure he learned his lesson. Me sendin’ him back would be no good. Impossible, really.”

“Hmm.” Mako looked down at the child. Being all alone in the big bad world, a world so different to the one you’re use to; Mako could relate to the strange girl. “Morgan,” he called the girl’s name. He couldn’t believe he was doing this.

The girl lifted her head up on command. Large tears hung at the corners of her big eyes. They were the same tears Jamison had the first day they met. God, Mako was getting soft because of them.

“Would you like to live here with us?” He finally asked.

“‘Ey!” said Jamison, glaring. “Why did it take you so long to ask me to stay, huh?”

“Once you got one world ending god in your home, you might as well collect them all.” Mako replied. “And you’re a grown ass adult.”

“Me don’t trust you!” Morgan barked and stood back on her feet. “Yer plottin’ something! You just want to use me, me know it!”

Before another word came out from the girl’s mouth, Mako scooped her up in her large arms. Morgan flinched only to relax in the soft grip of the older man after second passed. He rested one of his hands on the child’s back. “I get you can’t trust anyone in this world.” he spoke. “I wouldn’t either in a new place. Unless by some kind of blood pact or serious relationship. But I’m not asking you to be my friend, Morgan. You can stay and live here with me and Jamison. I’m not going to just throw you out on the street.”

The tears in Morgan’s eyes finally fell, rolling down her cheeks and staining Mako’s shirt. With a hiccup and another sniffle, Morgan nodded. “O-okay…” she whispered and buried her face in his chest while she continued to cry.

Jamison stood quietly off to the side, watching the two. He smiled. Mister Rutledge was such a good guy. He was glad that he found someone like him.

  
  



	6. Curious Creatures

“Where are you going, Mister Rutledge?” Morgan asked as she watched the older man while she stood nearby.

Mako slipped his arms into his jacket and buttoned it up. He looked down at the child who awaited his reply. “I’m heading off to work for today.” He answered. “I’ll be back by tonight.” That was if Vega didn’t drag him into having drinks again that night.

“Work?” The child repeated then her tail began to wag. “Me wanna go too! Can I, can I?”

“Yer not goin’ with him, Scrappy.” Jamison said, placing a firm hand on top of Morgan’s head. “You got lots of stuff to do with me today. Won’t that be fun, right?”

“No!” Morgan exclaimed and grabbed on to Mako’s shirt, burying her face into his belly. “Me want Mister Rutledge!”

“Whoa,” said Mako. He tried to pry the kid off of him but Morgan held on tight. “Where the hell did this come from?” Morgan had barely been with him for a day and the kid was already attached to him. “What do you even have planned today for her?” He asked Jamison.

“Well, Scrappup hasn’t been in this world for long. He needs to learn the rules if he wants to keep livin’ here.” The servant explained. “Now Scrappy, let go of Mister Rutledge or I’ll break ya.”

“That’s…oddly responsible of you, Jamison. Good job.” Praised Mako.

 _Good job?_ A rosy pink blush appeared across Jamison’s cheeks at the words. He did a good job. Jamison giggled to himself, scratching at the back of his head.

“Pervert,” Morgan whispered.

“Alright, I’m heading off,” Mako said again. He opened the door and headed on to the landing. “See you two later.” He waved and started walking towards the stairs.

“Happy trails!” Jamison called after his master. When Mako finally left his line of sight, he closed the door and his bright orange eyes rested on the child before him. He declared, “Now it’s time fer you to learn some common sense in this place.”

“Common sense?” Morgan repeated with a tilt of her head.

“Things ya can and can’t do, y’know? Ready to get outta of this stuffy place?”

Morgan’s sapphire eyes sparkled and she raised her arms over her head. “Uh!” she vocalized loudly.

________________________________

“Got another addition to the old apartment,” Mako commented, eyes still attached to the computer screen in front of him and finger hammering away at the keyboard.

“Hmm? Oh yeah?” He heard Vega say from the other side of the cubicle wall. Both of them were swamped to their ears with work; their boss wasn’t in a good mood today. Which meant Vega couldn’t hang herself like an ornament as she usually did. Thankfully, the walls were thin and the office space was quiet enough to hold a conversation. Vega was equally pounding down on her keys. “Is this one a cute servant like the other one?”

“Nah,” replied Mako. “This one seems to be a monk of some sorts.” He then halted in typing to think, “A monk with a Tibetan theme.” He added.

There was a pause in both typing and talking then Vega spoke again. “Interesting combination…” she whispered. Her typing continued soon after.

Mako went on with his work also. He thought nothing of the woman’s comment. Vega liked themes; talking about Morgan probably sparked her interest. Wouldn’t surprise him if she wanted to meet the girl. “I’m a bit worried though. Jamison is showing her around the town today.”

“Oh yeah, Big Mac? I think they’ll be okay.” Vega reassured. “Jamie seems to be the responsible sort of guy and has a good head on his shoulders.”

Mako glanced over at the wall in Vega’s direction then back at his monitor. “You think so?” he asked. “Well, if there’s anything I know about Jamison is that he cares about his friends.”

________________________________

Morgan held tight onto Jamison’s right hand as the two traveled down the sidewalk. The child’s eyes wandered all over the place; curious at all the people and sight that passed them by. What caught Morgan’s attention the most was a man talking loudly into a device he had pressed against his ear while he leaned on a building. She stopped Jamison for both of them to focus on the man. The man was too wrapped up in his conversation to notice them.

“What’s he sayin’, Rat?” asked Morgan. “Sounds funny.”

“He’s sayin’ a bunch of magic words,” Jamison replied. “Usin’ them can get ya through many things so remember them, yeah?”

“Okay,”

Jamison and Morgan continued walking only to soon to stop at a curb. Metal poles with colored lights and symbols attached to them crowded the intersection they stopped in front of. Vehicles zoomed by both horizonally and vertically over roads made of dark grey and painted with white and yellow. Morgan watched these vehicles moved with fascination and curiosity.

“You gotta follow the traffic lights and signs,” Jamison explained. “If you don’t, you’ll get squashed to bits by a car! Don’t wanna scrape you off the pavement if that happens.”

“A car?” Morgan questioned. “That’s what those metal moving boxes are? Rat, you’re so smart.”

“Of course I am! A genius like me knows all sorts of things!” Jamison chuckled humbly.

“How do they move?” the child then asked.

Jamison froze. His eyes landed on a blue car closest to them. He came to a quick conclusion to answer the kid’s question on the spot. “Probably with magic, I think. I heard puttin’ some sort of elixir helps make it move around too.”

“Does Mister Rutledge have a car too?” Morgan started to bounce around with excitement. “Me wanna ride in a car!”

“Mister Rutledge doesn’t possess a car but is in the ownership of a ‘bike’, as he calls it. Different from a car. Ownin’ a car or ‘bike’ has a bunch of restrictions like ‘inspections’, ‘oil changes’, ‘registrations’, and ‘tires’.”

“Wow. Great powers in every world can have its limits, huh?” Morgan stated then looked up at Jamison. “Why doesn’t Mister Rutledge just ride you to work?”

Jamison’s shoulders slumped at the question. “I wanna know the answer just as much as you do, mate…”

Their journey, long walking down the straight sidewalk, brought Jamison and Morgan in front of a public park. Green trees and shrubs decorated the large area. Dirt, sand, and grass sectioned off by wooden dividers covered the ground. Benches and other equipment filled the park for its attendants.

“What’s that thing, Rat?” Morgan asked, pointing her finger ahead of her.

What she was pointing out was a particular structure several feet in front of him. It was a structure curled in angles, creating bars and ladders to climb. There were chains, ramps, steps, and rotating devices that made up the entire structure. It was painted bright shades of red and blue. _What the hell was that thing_ , Jamison thought. An idea came to mind and Jamison blurted out, “It’s equipment used to train for upcomin’ battles and wars!”

“Ohhh…” the child cooed with wonderment then her attention when elsewhere. “What’s that?” Her finger pointed at an open shop where the smell of delicious pastries waft in the air.

“That’s a donut shop!” Jamison eagerly answered since it was finally a question he could answer without guessing. He bought the kid a regular glazed donut and handed it to her.

The pink pastry paper crinkled at her grasp. Morgan took a bite out of the donut and her eyes lit up like the full moon. “It’s sweet and warm,” she commented, “Like a lava boiled Phoenix egg…” After finishing her donut, Morgan pointed to another shop. “What’s that?”

“That’s a place where you get frozen yogurt.”

Buying her a cup of blueberry flavored frozen yogurt, Jamison watched as Morgan ate a spoonful. “It’s cold but really yummy…”

The rest of the day Jamison walked Morgan around town, ducking in and out of shops, buying things to eat for the kid. Strange that with all the sugar he was shoving in her wasn’t making her hyper. Shame really.  The kid would cause so much mayhem if he wasn’t afraid about Mister Rutledge scolding him. That’s the last thing he wanted.

The sky transformed into a warm burnt orange as the day winded down to an end. Jamison and Morgan sat close together on a wooden park bench after they finished their tour of the town. Now they were just quiet observers, watching the world around them pass by. Jamison would usually find this unbearable, unable to sit still or halt his racing thoughts. But something about this place made him want to just sit back and watch the humans go on their way. This world must be affecting him and he was losing his touch.

“This world,” Morgan broke the silence between them. “It’s more peaceful than our world.”

“It is, ain’t it?” said Jamison. “No wars, no fightin’. Just humans goin’ about their inferior lives.”

“Are there creatures like us here in this world?” the child asked.

With a shake of his head, Jamison replied, “I don’t think so. Think the lot of them either are dead or they left this place in the dust.”

“Is it bad for me to go back to my regular form here?”

“Just as long as the human don’t see ya. You’ll scare them have to death.”

There was another moment of silence before Morgan spoke once more. “Rat?” her voice was quieter than usual.

“Hmm?” he looked at Morgan, who was looking up at him.

“Why you come to this world? They say you were dead.” She squeezed her hand together. “Me got scared but me happy you’re still alive.”

Jamison broke eye contact to look at the sky above them. “Not like I wanted to be here, actually. I was tricked, trapped, and left fer dead at the bottom of a deep ravine. Then Mister Rutledge came by and freed me, savin’ my life just like that.”

“Mister Rutledge…” Morgan mimicked.

“Now I’m repayin’ him by bein’ his personal live-in servant and made everyone think I kicked the bucket back home. I only told a few folks I was still livin’, like Hanzo and Lú. But you know, Scrappy?” Jamison leaned down and lightly bumped his forehead against Morgan’s forehead. “I can’t really explain it, but I’m happy bein’ here. Strange, ain’t it?”

It got quiet again between them as they listened to each other’s breathing. Soon, Jamison disengaged and hopped to his feet. “Alright, enough of the sappy shit. I bet there’s still a bunch of things ya wanna see. Yeah, Scrappup?” said Jamison.

Morgan stood up from the bench and looked up at the older man with intense eyes. “Me wanna see Mister Rutledge’s work,” she declared.

“Really?” Jamison was surprised. “Mister Rutledge will get pissed at me if I take ya…”

“Me don’t care. Let him get mad at me instead.”

A shrug of his shoulders and a sigh, Jamison broke. “Fine, fine. Don’t whine at me if ya get yelled at.” With a quick cast of perception, an orange glow enveloped Jamison and he transformed into his rat form in less than a second. Reaching down to the tiny child in front of him, he tapped a claw against Morgan’s head which casted an orange glow on the girl. “Alright, let loose! I put a perception spell on ya so no one can see ya!” Jamison’s voice boomed out his open mouth.

“Uh,” Morgan said with a nod. She closed her eyes and her human body was consumed by a red glow. Her form grew to the same height as Jamison before the glow faded. Standing before him was long snouted dog. Her eyes opened, just as blue as they were in her human form. Thick, short, curly brown fur covered her body. A ring of sphere shaped stones floated around her ruffled neck.

“Can you use some of that telekinesis of yers on us?” Jamison asked. “Flyin’ there is faster than runnin’.”

“Uh,” Morgan replied. Five of the ten sphere around her nerk separated from the rest to circle around Jamison’s own neck. The orbs started to vibrate with some kind of purple energy and both were lifted off the ground.

Jamison’s body wobbled as he steadied himself with the new feeling of weightlessness. As many times in the past that he had flown with the kid’s telekinesis, he could never get use to the feeling of not being in quite control of his body. It didn’t take long for the two to take flight into the evening sky.

________________________________

Mako leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head. A loud yawn escaped from his mouth and he looked out the window next to his cubicle. The sun was setting, turning the sky a mixture of oranges and light violets. Though night was fast approaching, Mako still had a few hours of work to be done. He also wondered what Jamison and Morgan were up to. Hopefully they weren’t getting into trouble. He didn’t want to go home and find some kind of magical mess to deal with.

“Hot fuel comin’ your way,” He heard Vega announce and Mako pushed his rolling chair out from his cubicle. Vega came walking up to him, holding two whit mug in her hands. “Here you go, big guy. Black coffee with sugar.”

“Thanks,” Mako said as he took the cup of coffee from his friend. He sipped the hot drink as he rolled back inside, relaxing back in his chair. It was a good brew, this pot of coffee was. Vega knew how to make it just how he liked it. It warmed him up from the depths of his stomach.

Mako’s eyes returned to the world outside. Taking a casual sip here and there. When he was in mid-sip, he caught a glimpse of something on the roof of the building across from him. It was Jamison in his rat form and next to him was a large dog who, no doubt, was Morgan. They were both looking down right at him. He almost choked on his coffee at the sight. When he did a double take, they were gone. Mako stared at the area for a moment before letting out a tired sigh.

“ _I don’t get paid enough for this shit._ ”


End file.
